


Ghostflame

by taichara



Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 22:36:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8075527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: When he receives a surprise call from Ryo, Rowen had no idea what to expect.  
It probably wasn't this, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alessandriana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandriana/gifts).



_Oof. Must be getting out of shape, if this is all it takes to wind me --_

Or maybe, that cynical little voice in Rowen's head muttered, just maybe it had nothing to do with being out of shape, and everything to do with having to drag himself out of house and home and library and head out into who only knew where with barely a moment's warning. You know, little things like that.

Oh, and having to be as 'mundane' about it as possible, which meant begging a drive out to the shrine-riddled forest in question and then hoofing it up the twisting stone pathways. No flying around, no matter how tempting.

_Now all I need to do is find him, before the gribbly finds me first._

_The description didn't sound like one of Talpa's goons ..._

Talpa. A bitter tang rose in Rowen's throat as he picked his way up the worn stone steps. That creepy pink floating head had better damn well not be making a third attempt at ... whatever bizarre excuse he had this time. Rowen _liked_ the relative normalcy of his post-Talpa life, even if 'normal' involved both keeping his celestial tricks under wraps and broadening his studies to cover damned near everything militaristic _and_ supernatural since Heian-kyo. 

_Maybe I'll apply to Mia's department once I graduate. Won't she be surprised ... nah. She's probably expecting it._

It bothered him that he'd never seen anything about the armours -- or Talpa, or _whoever_ the Warlords had been -- in any history he'd read before all hell broke loose. But, since Mia and her grandfather knew about it, or the legend anyway, it had to be there somewhere. So Rowen decided to pour his energy into picking out hints and scraps; maybe he'd spot something based on his own experiences.

Or maybe it was all just a coping mechanism. Just like Ryo's decision to pack up and wander his way across the country until he felt like his head was screwed on straight was a coping mechanism. Just _how_ Ryo was getting away with that, Rowen had no idea, but the letters and phone calls came in regularly (to him, to everyone, sometimes routed via Mia) so it seemed to be working. Hopefully it was working. Rowen sometimes looked at his new obsession and wondered if it was helping him, or just distracting him.

_It's not a distraction, though. I feel better about all this every time I find another lead, and eventually I'm going to piece the actual history together, damn it ... Ooop --_

A flicker of ghostly white through the trees caught his attention and brought him to a halt some thirty steps from the top of the stairway; a flicker that quickly resolved itself into White Blaze's looming white bulk. Ryo was barely two steps behind the great tiger; he looked a bit thinner in the cheeks, a little shaggier, but the grin on his face was unmistakable as he bounded towards Rowen.

"Took you long enough to get here!"

Somewhere in all the grinning and back-pounding and shoulder cuffing, Rowen managed a retort --

"Yeah, well, _someone_ said I couldn't cheat and get here the fast and easy way, so what'd you think was going to happen --"

_Something_ rippled across Rowen's nerves and sent a shiver down his spine. Ryo went on alert in the same moment, all trace of amiability gone, expression grim. White Blaze eeled close to the pair, circling, ears slicked back to his skull. Staring out into the trees, Ryo looked tense as a bowstring.

"Whatever it is, using mystic anything gets its attention faster. Learned that the hard way, so I figured I'd call you in and see what two of us could do.

"It doesn't much matter, though, because I guess two of us in one place is just two too much."

Now a different sort of flicker shivered through the trees, fluttering towards the apex of the stairway, and the shrine courtyard that waited at the top. A flicker like pale blue foxfire, even in the early evening ...

Rowen cursed under his breath. Blue fire meant ghosts, didn't it? Isn't that what the folk tales said? Next to him, he could feel the prickle of heat beginning to radiate from Ryo; a quick sidewise glance at those twitching hands told him Wildfire's swords were ready to appear in an instant. 

_What does some undead haunt want with any of us? Is it just looking for a fast ticket back to the netherworld?_

The wave of nether energy came from nowhere and everywhere at once, a sensation of soul-chilling talons clawing for their living essence -- a sensation that was abruptly cut off as Rowen's barrier sphere flashed into existence. His bow followed close behind. Ryo's grin was back, this time edged with fierce determination.

"Think we've got a fight on our hands --"

Outside the protective bubble, the ghostly fires were coalescing. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, a translucent figure began to resolve itself -- protected from head to toe, not in the stylized plates of their own bonded armours, but the cords and scales and lacquered leathers of centuries gone by. Even washed out by manifestation in broad daylight, Rowen could pick out the hints of scarlet and cobalt and black, and the tracing of rippled patterns -- waves? no -- on the ancient armour. And then he realized the apparition's face was obscured by a mempo. That face guard was cast to resemble a snarling tiger's jaws.

The spirit did not move. It only stared, unblinking, licked with ghost-flame, as if waiting for some sign. White Blaze growled one more time ... and then stopped his circling, setting himself at Ryo's feet with an air of aggravated resignation. Nonplussed, Ryo asked him what was wrong, which prompted Rowen to give their spectral adversary a closer look.

Still waiting. It seemed almost ... amused, somehow.

Scarlet. Scarlet and rippled 'waves' and a damn tiger. Rowen searched for any sign of mon or personal marks, spotted a damaged insignia on one shoulder plate, and stared at it until his eyes watered before finally, he came up with ...

_I don't believe this._

"Ryo! How long's this thing been following you around?"

"... Eh?"

"No, seriously. How long?"

Ryo blinked twice, like the question was in a foreign language, before he mustered an answer.

"Probably almost two weeks now, why?"

"Did it attack you, ever?"

Now Ryo was eyeing him like he'd lost his mind.

"You don't think that soulsucking cold is an attack? Come on, man --"

"Attacking _directly_ , then."

"Well ... not exactly ..."

With an exasperated snort, Rowen abruptly dropped his barrier. The spirit drifted a few paces closer and then stopped again; before Ryo could protest, Rowen planted a hand between his shoulder blade and heaved. Ryo staggered, stumbled forward, and swore.

"What was _that_ for -- are you _crazy_ \--"

"That's one of your _ancestors_ , Ryo. Go see what he wants before something ridiculous or horrible starts happening or something. Damn it anyway, does stubbornness ever run in your family -- almost _two weeks_. Seriously, what.

"And let me know if he drops any hints about you-know-what, will you?"


End file.
